At this Govier gave a shrug of his ox-like shoulders, and waved away all such sorry triflers.
"There are such people," said he; "but they are not entertaining. However, you want to get the hang of that song, and though I cannot remember the exact words I have the rhythm of it in my head right enough, and I think it runs like this:
"'Come all you young fellows that carry a gun,
Beware of late shooting when daylight is done;
For 'tis little you reckon what hazards you run,
I shot my true love at the setting of the sun.
In a shower of rain, as my darling did hie
All under the bushes to keep herself dry,
With her head in her apron, I thought her a swan,
And I shot my true love at the setting of the sun.